Po's Failed Treasury Heist
by Wolfshead
Summary: The telletubbies have a plan to bomb the U.S.Treasury all for the sake of getting money to buy illegal drugs. Their plan fails with hilarious results. Chapter 3 up. Please read & review!
1. Chapter 1

_Think the telletubbies are innocent and harmless just because they are all completely helpless and stupid? Well think again. _

_They might be stupid but whatever evil plot they put their minds to they carry out. Mostly at other peoples expenses though...Read on and see what I mean._

Over the hills and far away, the telletubbies are having a typical day. Po is stealing crack, cocaine, and marijuana from whoever

he can get it from and is now storing his ill-gotten gains in a large vault wherein lies a great and continually growing wealth of such drugs, Dipsy, is drinking moonshine until he can barely stand straight, and Tinky-Winky is being a transsexual (in fact, he is said to have told his tubby parents who changed his diapers for 20 years that he was a woman, and they actually believed him) La-La is stealing candy from babies as he has been doing ever since his armed robbery attempts failed miserably. So far this was a pretty typical day - a pretty typical day until Po brought up his plan to detonate the Department of the Treasury.

Up the hill came Po, skipping in a state of perfect ecstasy toward the other telletubbies and their home, that nameless object which was nothing more than a poor imitation of a Hobbit-hole. As he was approaching they all wondered at the cause his sudden effervescence, that effervescence that could only have come from his occasional overdose of alcohol and drugs. "Yo, Po, what's up?" Dipsy said.

"U-uh, um, you all know that-that adage," Po began, when his sentence was cut short by a slowly manifesting laughter. "Y-y-you-heh heh,'' Po struggled to speak as his laughter reached its climax. "You know that adage: 'Money can't buy happiness'?" Just then everybody joined in to the laughter. It soon died out and Po began to regain control of himself. "Isn't that ridiculous? It's bought us everything from alcohol to drugs to constipation medicines, and what do you think all that is? ...Ahem, uh, that's not the subject of this conversation. What I want to tell you is... is... Oh yes, about my plan to blow up the Department of the Treasury." Everybody was astounded. He said this with the perfunctory manner of a ten year old talking about an ordinary day at school. But they knew he was serious. He could never be that happy unless he was thinking of something extraordinarily evil. But why hadn't anybody thought of this before? That much was obvious. None of those idiots ever had the presence of mind to think of it.

"But how could we do dat?" Dipsy inquired.

"With explosives," Po answered.

"Oh, yeah, that's right."

"After we steal them, of course, like just about everything else we've acquired in our lives," Po continued.

"Well, we're not sure if we really want to," replied those fat, lazy S.O.B.s in the colored suits.

"C'mon, think about it for a moment," Po chided. "Remember that large vault I had built into the dome, where I store all the goodies? Suppose the project is a success. We'll be able to buy that stuff as if it were peanuts. We'll have so much money left over we could use the spare bills for marijuana joints. We won't even have to worry about sharing what's in the vault anymore. I'm tired of sharing, anyway. Especially after I've earned most of it."

Dipsy was getting confused. "Earned it? But-I thought you said you stole it all.'' Po was almost annoyed at this. He felt as if Dipsy was trying to trap him.

"It's not as easy as you think. I had to look pretty hard for those crack dens. Oh, well. We can discuss the rest of the plan over lunch." With that they hustled over to the garage where Po kept his stolen truck, and hopped in.

"Wait a second," Dipsy said. Why not just walk home? It's only about 10 feet away." Just then Po's eyes lit up with an ardent expression of anger.

''Smart Aleck," Po said quietly, and drove toward towards the dome.

After the tubbies came in and sat down to a table already set with bowls of tubby custard, that thick slop that looked like colored diarrhea, Po got out a notebook and began to think over his plan. But not before he had to go to the bathroom. ''Uh-uh-I have to go to the bathroom," he said nervously. "Quick, I need earmuffs and two corks for my nose! Oh, and don't forget the CD player with the rap music, 'cause I'm gonna be in there for a while. They handed him all the required objects and he ran straight to the crapper, giving a word of warning: "I have a big one coming out; you better hold your noses." As he reached his destination he sat down with a sigh of relief and began to write down the steps of his plan.

No.1: git tnt for boming.

No.2: hav cuzin bild rocket go to dc.

Translated into coherent English, with a few other needful embellishments, this would be:

No.1 Get TNT for bombing.

No.2 Have cousin build rocket ship and launch it for Washington D.C.

(His cousin is a scientist, one of his very few relatives who succeeded in life)

Not much of a plan. Po got off the toilet, hopped his way out of the bathroom and through the hall, which was virtually the whole house. "I've got it, everybody, I've got it all down on paper.'' After hopping a few feet more Po tripped on his own feet and did a somersault accidentally. The other tubbies helped him up and Dipsy gave him a bit of advice.

"I have a suggestion. Just pull up your suit. It'll make it easier for you to walk without tripping."

''Aw, I should've thought of that," Po said seriously. ''I've got all the plans ready for the bombing on that notebook I just dropped. I'll have my cousin Bumsy help us with it. Just let me go back and wipe my butt, then were ready to go."

II.At Bumsy's labratory

They neared Bumsy's laboratory, proceeding hastily towards his facility, not even caring to see if there were any guards. They were now nearing the entrance where was a pair of automatic doors. Stepping back to get a running start, they bolted towards the door with all their might, crashed through, and announced their arrival. But to their surprise, no one seemed to hear them. They turned around to find a large corridor from which seemed to emanate strange noises, like something from a Michael Jackson song. They hobbled down the corridor drunkenly till at last they found the source of the sound.

They came upon a room where a number of people, people all in uniforms, probably the guards, were listening and dancing to music played almost deafeningly loud. ''Turn it off," Po yelled at a moderate volume. No one listened. They only continued dancing like drunken fools. Now Po was getting mad. "TURN IT OFF!" he yelled again. But still they continued. He decided that was the last straw. He reached into his soiled suit and pulled out a revolver. He looked about the room until he found the boom box that was playing the music, and sent three bullets into it. He then began working on a stack of Michael Jackson CD's lying right next to it when an agonized shriek resonated through the room. "NOOOOOOOOOOO! Not the Michael Jackson records!'' a familiar voice cried. It was Bumsy.


	2. Chapter 2

Bumsy continued shrieking and stumbled at Po's feet. He had changed a lot since Po had seen him last. He now had sideburns and a goatee, and wore a blue suit. Po almost barely recognized him. "What happened," Po said sardonically. ''You used to wear a pink suit, and what's with the hideous sideburns and goatee?'' Bumsy then pulled out a pipe and began to smoke it as all conscientious scientists do when about to explain something and sat down in a chair.

"Ahem,"he began. ''A-a-hem, ahem, a-a-a-a-hem, a-a- he continued clearing his throat till it was just about right.

''GET ON WITH IT!" Po yelled viciously. He pulled out his revolver and shot the pipe out of his mouth.

"No,no,'' Bumsy cried in a British accent. ''First my Jackson records,now this? Guards! Seize them!" The guards all made desperate motions for their weapons only to find that they were not there.

''Our weapons,they're gone!'' one of them said. "We-we left them at the bar!''

"What do you want? I don't have nuttin'," Bumsy lied.

"I want," Po began. "I want you to build me a rocket and launch it to D.C. so I can blow up the Department of the Treasury and get the dough after the project's over."

"Nonsense" Bumsy said. "You really think I'll help you do such a thing?

"Well," Po continued. "I have all the guns and explosives and I take out yer family if ya doesn't."

Bumsy looked shocked. How did Po know all these things after all the years he'd been away from him? "Go ahead," Bumsy said dejectedly. "I could never aid you in such a monstrous deed, even for their lives. They wouldn't want me to!"

Now Po tried his plan B. "All right, and after I'm done I'll comb the house through and through,and whatever I find useful I'll take home. I've been waiting to add to my collection of Playboy mags for a long time,anyway."

Bumsy's face broke into a cold sweat.

"Oh, and do you have anymore of the Michael Jackson CD's under the bed like you used too?" Po asked.

"All right, All right,'' Bumsy cried in an agonized manner. "I'll help you."

_A few hours later _

Bumsy worked on the rocket, as Po kept a revolver aimed at his back.

"Uh, Bumsy,uh, I want to ask my question once again, since you never answered. Why the sideburns, goatee, and blue suit?''

"To get the chicks,I guess"

"Oh."

"Tell ya what, Po, how's about we have a smoke, my treat."

"Sure, where's the crack 'n cocaine?" Po said.

"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, let's not get carried away! I just said, let's have a smoke. I don't do no drugs." Bumsy had a strangely low vocabulary for somone of his eminence.

"Bummer," Po said.

"However, I do have some tobacco."

"Ok," Po said. Po was dissapointed, but at least he could still smoke tobacco. It would be a change from all the years of smoking cocaigne. But it still didn't give him the sensation and the ecstasy he got from the drugs which he had come to know and love.

"It's over there in one of the boxes, Po" bumsy advised. Po went over to one of the boxes and pulled out a pipe and what he thought was some tobacco. Po spilled the contents into the pipe, lit it, and smoked. From all the smoke he exhaled Bumsy could almost tell that he smoked it all in one puff.

"Now for some more," Po announced to no one in particular. Bumsy groaned.

"You're supposed to smoke it slowly, Po," he said exasperatedly. You don't just take it in in one puff." He then resumed his work on the rocket. Po then started to chuckle randomly.

"He-he,he,he,he."

"Oh no," Bumsy groaned. He suddenly remembered that Po's mind, as well as all the other's, cracked up randomly at certain times. Bumsy tried to ignore it until it got even worse and soon became intolerable. "Po, will you please stop that, it's really getting on my nerves!

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha---E-eh-eh-eh-ha ha ha ha ha ha!" Then Po gave off a loud, deafening shout of "BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" and whipped out his revolver and sent

a shower of bullets throughout the room.

"TAKE COVER!" Bumsy shouted and the guards as well as the other three tubbies rolled and ducked behind whatever shielding obstacles they could find. Well, not the tubbies. They walked in plain sight and took slow strides till they found something to hide behind, which was a wooden chair. All three of them hid behind this one chair. If Po was any smarter they would be dead. Bumsy slid along the floor quietly, trying desperately to get to the boxes so he could have a smoke while he waited for Po to stop shooting. He reached into the box Po took the pipe out of and he soon realized why Po had gotten so vicous. He reached in and

_pulled out a bag of hashish!_ Although his mind had just cracked like it always did, he wasn't that usually that violent. Not usually. He had smoked the hashish

by mistake and now they were all paying for it. Po's revolver just depleted of its six bullets as Bumsy spotted another gun laying on the floor. He crawled toward it slowly, hoping Po wouldn't notice. He was just to grab it until Po came and stepped on it. Bumsy was in plain sight and Po raised the weapon at him.

"Give me some crack cocaigne," he said darkly.

"But-but I-"

"Now!"

"Uh-all right. Just stay calm and I'll give it to you. Bumsy cogitated on this and found an answer to his problem. He had been to a hotel some time ago and had taken some home. From his scientific studies he knew that crack cocaigne looked like tan soap. Like the soap one would get from a hotel room. Po couldn't tell the difference. Even if he smelled it. He was exceptionally stupid.

Bumsy went on to go get it until he realized that Po had his gun to his back and followed him every step of the way. "Uh, will one of you go get my suitcase from

the room where the boom box was and give it to me?" he said to the guards. One of them went right over, got it and came right back.

"I've got it, but I don't know if it's the right one. All it has is some soa-"

"All right, just give it to me." His guards were always like that. Always lightheaded and dull. Bumsy reached in the bag and scrambled around till he found the bar

of soap and a plastic bag. He then crushed it into little pieces and put it into the bag. He handed the bag to the guard and he proceeded toward Po slowly.

"GIVE IT TO ME!" Po shouted. He raised the gun and fired.

"Ow!'' the guard exclaimed more in surprise than in pain.

"Why are you doing? He was just about to give it to you!" Bumsy inquired.

"That was only a warning"

"If it was only a warning, then why did you shoot him in the leg?"

"That was the warning, next time it'll be the heart. Now give it to me!" To their surprise the man came right over and handed it to Po.

"I'm all right, the bullet just barely grazed me," the guard whispered to Bumsy after he handed the bag to Po. Bumsy almost wondered if the frenzy was caused by

the hashish or if he was always like this when he was deprived of drugs. Po put the soap into a pipe and tried to smoke it, then went over to a chair and sat down,

being too stupid to realize that it wasn't even burning. He was like a child with a pacifier.

"Where did you get that hashish (he pronounced it haz-hish)stuff?" Po asked.

"I don't remember," Bumsy said, realizing that Po would probably have him get some of that too.

_End of chapter II_


	3. Chapter 3

Bumsy resumed work on the rocket and fortunately hadn't been disturbed for a long time. The Teletubbies were at a table nearby eating tubby toast and bowls of tubby custard. The fat S.O.B.s soon finished and walked away with their dirty plates. When they were out of sight Bumsy went over to the machine and examined it,

and soon operated it. Out of the machine soared three pieces of toast. It made sounds somewhat like this as it exited the machine:_Wheew! Wheew!Wheeew! _and

ended in three _Splat! _sounds as it hit the table upon where the tubbies had just eaten.

"What kind of toast is this?" Bumsy muttered very quietly. It was a very strange type of toast. It looked like sliced pieces of gingerbread with icing on it in the shape

of a smiley face on it and it always made a splattering sound like something one could get from a sound effects generator on the internet whenever it hit something.

Normal toast, or real toast,for that matter, never does that. What was even stranger than that was the fact that the tubby toast seemed to change in quality from time

to time. The same thing could be said about the tubby custard. Sometimes the custard looked like yogurt, sometimes it looked like pudding. The most frequent

change was the color.

Bumsy then decided he would take the food and the machine down to one of the chemists and have it analyzed. He ran over to the teletubbies before they exited the

building to inform them of what he was going to do.

"Uh, guys, there's some problems with your machine, so I'm going to take it down to see if I can get it fixed."

"Ok," they said.

Then he delivered the food and the machine to a small group of chemists. After that he resumed working on the rocket again for what

might have been the 3rd or 4th time and then, remembering the tubby toast on the table, decided to give it a try.

He tasted it and- It was actually pretty good! But that was not much of a surprise. The teletubbies had machines they obviously did not create to do the work for them because they were too lazy to do anything on their own.

After a few hours of undisturbed work one of Bumsy's best chemists, Dr. Gold, came over to him with news.

''Uh,Sir, we've analysed that-that-tubby toast stuff and we still can't find out what it's made of," he said. "And we still don't know what causes that splatter sound it

made when it hit the counter, it's one of the strangest things we've ever seen. We've also apllied one of the mechanics to the machine and were having just as much

trouble with that."

Bumsy rubbed his chin in thought as he tried to remember what he wanted to ask the chemist about. "What's to say about the tubby custard?" he inquired.

"Oh, that stuff? That was just some yogurt mix with some with some food coloring, some alchahol, and a good sized portion of drugs like heroin and meth."

"It figures," Bumsy groaned.

It made perfect sense. The tubby custard was the only thing made by the tubbies, and their cooking skills were very primitive. He remembered when Tinky Winky

put banannas and Reeses cups in a blender to "see what it would taste like" as Tinky Winky put it in his own words. Then he remebered with a certain degree of

discomfort the time after they had all watched a war movie full of bombings and gas tank explosions. Once they knew how such things were done they tried to

emulate the deeds by putting a load of firecrackers next to a can of toxic waste after putting a plate full of hot dogs next to it because cooking them on a stove

"took too long'' as they had all said. Then Bumsy came out of this uncomfortable reverie and began speaking to Dr.Gold about a different subject.

"Boy, I'm glad we all combined our wits to make that intelligence serum. Before that they could say little more than sounds like 'Eh-Oh' and use some horribly

broken english. Now they can talk in complete sentences, they're toilet trained, and they can clean up messes! Well, they can,but they just don't want to.

They've improved in a lot of ways but they could get better.They've still got a lot to learn."

Just then dissonant sounds of drunken laughter and all other sorts of other drunken behavior filled resonated throughout the corridors. The teletubbies were back.

"Hurry, get back to the rocket, they're coming back," Dr. Gold advised.

Bumsy hastened over and sat down by the rocket as the teletubbies thundered into the room.

_End of Chapter 3. Chapter 4 coming soon!_


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